


Tired

by paperwaster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperwaster/pseuds/paperwaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Hook Man (Season 1), Dean decides that Sam needs a break</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired

AN: This takes place after Hook Man in S.1

They had driven for almost an hour when Sam declared,“I’m fine, Dean.”  
“What? I didn’t say anything.”  
“You keep looking at me.”  
“What are you five? I’m looking at you, that’s your problem?”  
“Just cut it out.”  
Dean noticed that Sam grimaced and pulled at his shoulder.  
“Are you sure you’re ok?”  
“Yeah, my shoulder’s just sore, stiffening up.”  
“Did the EMT’s give you anything?”  
“Yeah some Percocet I think.”  
“Oh Sammy, you got the good stuff. You should go ahead and take some.”  
“Not in the car, it’ll just make me nauseous.”  
That was when Dean decided that they were stopping at the next decent looking motel. They weren’t headed for a job, so there was no reason that Sam couldn’t get a good night’s sleep for a change.  
Unfortunately, they were in the middle of nowhere after they had left the university. Dean kept hoping that his Baby’s purr would lull Sam to sleep, but his brother just couldn’t seem to find a comfortable spot. They passed wide, empty fields and plenty of side roads with private gates, but there was no sign of a motel or even a diner. Frustrated, Dean pulled off onto the shoulder, which jolted Sam’s protesting body. Sam didn’t say anything, he’d spent too many years with Dad to complain, but he inhaled sharply through his teeth.  
“Sorry Sam,” Dean said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket before stepping out of the car. “This will only take a minute.”  
The fact that Sam didn’t ask any questions bothered Dean more than his restlessness. He needed to get his little brother off the road. He dialed a number from memory.  
“Hey Bobby, it’s Dean, Dean Winchester. No, he’s not with me. Haven’t seen him in a while. Anyway, I’m out in Iowa and I was wondering if there was someplace that we could crash. Sam got kind of banged up on our last case. EMT’s took a look. He’s taking a break. I promise I’ll fill you in later.”  
Dean dug an old receipt out of his pocket along with a pen and scribbled the directions Bobby gave him. “Thanks Bobby, I’ll keep you posted.”  
Dean got back into the Impala and turned the car around.  
“Dean, what the hell-“  
“Got us a place to stay Sammy.”  
Dean drove back five miles until he got to one of those gates they had passed earlier. It was more sophisticated than it had seemed when they had driven past it earlier. Dean entered a 6 digit passcode and then followed a bumpy dirt road to the cabin that was at the far end of a large field. He was surprised to see a pickup along side the house when they pulled up.  
A man slightly older than Bobby was standing on the porch. He came down the steps as Sam and Dean exited the Impala.  
“Winchesters?” the man said, extending his hand to Dean.  
“That’s right, I’m Dean and this is my brother Sam.”  
“ Neil Kirkland,I just happened to be out here when Bobby called a few minutes ago. Really should sell the place but it comes in handy when I’ve got a late night delivery.”  
“Delivery?” Dean asked. He felt awkward, all this chatting was usually Sam’s thing, but obviously he wasn’t feeling up to the social niceties.  
“I’m a vet, and it’s calf and foal season. Lucky for you I also was a medic in ‘Nam. Saw too many- never mind.”  
He led them inside. “The place is fully stocked. Satellite dish, you’ll figure things out. Now before I take off, let me have a look Sam.”  
“Really, it’s nothing.”  
“Bobby asked me to check you out and you know the kind of trouble he’ll cause me if I don’t give him a full report. “  
Sam nodded resigned and slipped off first the shirt he was wearing and then the T-shirt underneath. The Doc and Dean exchanged a look which Sam couldn’t see.  
“They did a really nice job. Just take it easy for a couple of days. Now I’ve got to be going.”  
“Sammy, I’m going to get our gear out of the car.”

Kirkland waited until they were at the Impala before he spoke. “So what’s going on?”  
“He got banged around a little-“  
“No, not the case, before that. It’s obvious he hasn’t been sleeping and when’s the last time he ate?”  
“He’s a big fan of rabbit food-“  
“Look you don’t want to be straight with me fine, but I know something about what you hunters do and I’m telling you he’s not in any shape to be watching your back right now. He’ll either get one or both of you killed.”  
“His girl, she died in a fire about six months ago.”  
“Same thing as your Mom? I know your Dad.”  
“Yeah, he has nightmares, I can’t get him to eat half the time.”  
“Take as long as you need here. That boy needs a solid week’s rest and you should put at least ten pounds on him before you start hunting again. I know if you’re anything like your Dad you don’t appreciate my advice, but if something happened to you on a hunt because he wasn’t ready, do you think he could handle it?”  
“Thanks Doc.”  
“Call me if you need me. My cell number’s on the list next to the phone.”

Dean unpacked the car. When he came back into the cabin he noticed that Sam had put his t-shirt back on, but hadn’t bothered with the second shirt.  
“Why don’t you figure out the TV while I fix us something.”  
“Not really hungry Dean.”  
“You’ve got to put something in your stomach before you take that Percoset.”  
Sam didn’t bother to argue, he just picked up the remote.  
Dean threw the duffles into the bedroom. That was when he realized that there was only one extra large king. Well, he could always sleep on the couch because Sam was definitely getting the bed, at least for tonight. Leaving the bedroom door open, Dean made his way into the kitchen. After a few minutes he found the pantry. He poked around trying to figure out what might appeal to Sam. His little brother was a picky eater at the best of times and Dean was pretty sure that getting anything into him tonight was going to be a battle. He finally settled on a boxed cheese and broccoli soup that didn’t look half bad. That should make Mr. Vegetable happy. He’d just add a sandwich or two to keep from starving to death.  
“Hey Sammy,” he called from the kitchen, “why don’t you get the first shower. By the time you finish supper should be ready.”  
Dean didn’t turn around, but he heard the bathroom door shut.

Sam shut the door on the tiny bathroom and sat down on the toilet. He knew he should get up and take a shower, but he had no energy, no will to do anything, He sat there and stared at the tile. He was so tired and he couldn’t sleep. There was no way he could explain to Dean the things he saw when he closed his eyes. Whenever he did the words lodged in his throat and he couldn’t force them out. He supposed he should take advantage of Dean’s generosity. Sam couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten a shower first. Hot water would be a welcomed switch. In Dean’s list of driver privileges first showers were second on the list. Sam heard Dean banging pots around in the kitchen and knew if Dean didn’t hear running water soon, he’d be pounding on the door. So Sam reached down and pulled off his shoe. Once he was naked, he stepped into the shower. He was pleased when he had both hot water and pressure. His mind went blank as he moved through the motions of a shower. Not wanting to even bother with shampoo, he sudsed the soap and then ran his hands through his hair. He rinsed off and then stepped out of the shower. That was when he remembered that he didn’t have any clean clothes. Then he saw a neatly folded pile on the sink. He was so out of it that he hadn’t even heard Dean open and close the bathroom door. Maybe he was finally tired enough to sleep without dreaming. He got dressed and then leaned against the door, his hand on the knob. One thing at a time. Just get through dinner, he knew Dean was going to make him eat even though he had no appetite. Nothing tasted like anything and it just sat in his stomach like a lump unless it decided to come back up. Sam couldn’t even control that these days.  
Not for the first time he wished Dad was here. Not that the man would answer him, but he wanted to know how to do this. How did his Dad keep going in those first days after Mom died? Sam knew it was different, Sam at least knew from the start what had killed Jess, but how had he done it and with two little kids in tow? Sam swallowed hard, keeping the tears back. If Dean saw, then he would want Sam to talk about it and he just couldn’t right now. Dean would say all the right things and none of them would offer the comfort that his big brother wanted to give him so desperately. The question he wanted to ask his Dad most of all was, did it get easier? He felt like he was trying to keep himself from falling into the deep black pit he saw in his dreams every night. In a way he was glad they hadn’t found Dad yet, because he was afraid of what the answer would be, that Sam already knew it. He just didn’t know if he was as strong as his Dad, if he could carry this the distance. If Dad hadn’t found the demon after all this time…  
“Hey Sammy, come on. Soup’s going to get cold.”

Dean ignored the look on Sam’s face when he looked at the food, but when he didn’t pick up the spoon Dean hoped that he wouldn’t have to pull the airplane threat. “Eat the sandwich, that’s up to you, but you’ll sit there until you eat the soup.”  
Dean had finished half his turkey sandwich when he saw that Sam still hadn’t picked up the spoon. “One more chance Sammy or I’ll hold your nose and pour it in.”  
Without looking at his brother, Sam picked up the spoon and started mechanically spooning the soup into his mouth. Dean didn’t say anything, he just watched his brother. Sam had propped his head with his hand and there wasn’t any enthusiasm when he ate. They had to start somewhere he guessed. When he had finished Sam put his bowl in the sink. He just stood there as if he didn’t know what to do next.  
“Hey, why don’t you go lay down.”  
Sam nodded and headed for the bedroom. Dean put his dishes in the sink and then got a glass and filled it with water from the tap. As he walked into the bedroom, he knelt down by the duffles and dug around until he found the bottle of percocet. He shook two out into his hand.  
“Ok, Sammy, down the hatch.”  
“Dean, I don’t want to-“  
“Don’t be a bitch, just take them.”  
Dean knew that it was a testament that Sam felt like crap that he didn’t put up more of a fight. Sam swallowed the pills and Dean pulled back the sheets.  
As Sam lay down he said, “You don’t have to tuck me in like I’m a little kid Dean.”  
Dean did it anyway, “Good night, bitch.”  
“See you in the morning, ya jerk.”  
Dean hoped that would be true. 

Dean decided to leave the dishes for the morning. He found a game and settled down with a beer. Three hours later, Dean switched off the television and went to throw his bottle away. That’s when he saw that the bathroom door was ajar. He pushed the door open and saw Sam on the floor, kneeling in front of the toilet.  
“Hey Sammy.”  
“I told you I hate this stuff.”  
“Stay there, I’ll be right back.”  
Dean went to the kitchen to get a glass. In the cabinet found a couple of little round tins. They read Badger Extra Strength Muscle Rub and the other one said was called Sleep Balm. There were several more tins of the stuff, so he took them. He forgot about the glass and went and put the tins on the side table next to the bed. Then he went and got a towel. He slung it over his shoulder and went to get Sam. Sam was still leaning over the toilet.  
“Finished?”  
Sam nodded.  
“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”  
Sam stood and grabbed on to the sink. Dean stayed close enough that he’d be able to help if Sam needed it. Sam rinsed his mouth out and then headed for the bedroom.  
Sam sat down heavily on the bed. Dean kicked his shoes off and grabbed his duffel. A few minutes later he was back and Sam was still sitting there with his eyes shut. Dean grabbed the muscle rub and climbed up on the bed behind Sam.  
“What are you-“  
“Take your shirt off.”  
“Are you trying to take advantage of me?”  
“Shirt or more pills.”  
Sam sighed and then winced as he took his shirt off.  
Dean opened up the rub and put some on his hands. He started to massage Sam’s neck and shoulders.  
“Dean,”  
“You trust me Sammy?”  
“Course.”  
“Then just relax and let my fingers do their magic.”  
Dean put his thumbs on the base of Sam’s neck and began making small circles until he felt the muscles loosen. He moved his hands slowly across Sam’s shoulders wondering when they had gotten so broad. He could feel Sam’s whole body begin to relax. Then the palm of his hand grazed Sam’s bruised shoulder and Sam flinched.  
“Let me know if this hurts too much and I’ll stop.”  
Sam nodded. “It’s ok, you’re hands are really warm. How?”  
“A magician never reveals his secrets. You know that Sammy.”  
“Really good at this.”  
Dean could tell from how slowly Sam says that last phrase, that he was on the verge of falling asleep.  
“Lay down Sammy.”  
Sam lay down without protest. Dean took that moment to scoop some more of the balm into his hand.  
“Don’t stop.”  
“Whatever you say Princess, you know that’s not the first time someone’s said that to me in bed.”  
When Sam didn’t respond to the jibe, Dean knew he was out. Still, he kept working on his brother’s back, paying special attention to the brusing that was just at the waistline of his sweatpants. He knew he could stop now, but he didn’t want to. It wasn’t just about soothing Sam to sleep anymore, he found it relaxing as well. As long as he could remember he had taken care of Sam. Nothing made him feel more complete. And this was one of the few times that neither one of them was sick or badly injured. Sam was always fighting this, proving that he could do without Dean, when what Dean knew and Sammy couldn’t understand was that Dean couldn’t do without him.  
He knew he should go back and sleep on the couch, but now that he was stretched out next to Sam, he didn’t want to move.  
“Give the kid a break,’ he thought, “just one decent night’s sleep.”

There was a noise, a keening that pulled Dean from sleep. Sam was pressed up against him, but he must not have realized it or his brother’s presence made no difference, because he was wherever he went in his dreams.  
“Jess, please no, I didn’t.”  
“Sammy, wake up.”  
“No, no. Dad, Mom tell him please.”  
Dean flipped Sammy around and grabbed his face with both hands.  
“Sammy, it’s Dean. Wake up.”  
Sam’s eyes flew open and he drew in air like he had been holding his breath for too long. He was taking deep, strangled breaths, as if he couldn’t get any air into his lungs. He was trying to say something, but Dean couldn’t understand it.  
“Breathe Sammy, just breathe, I’m here, I’m right here.”  
Sam grabbed onto Dean’s shirt.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Sam, it was a bad dream. That’s what I’m here for.”  
“No, Mom, Jess, my fault. Mine.”  
“It was the demon Sam.”  
“No, they wanted him to kill me.”  
“Who?”  
“M-“ Sam started to say, but he began to sob again, his whole body shook with the force of them.  
“Mom? Mom would never want that Sammy, she loved you.”  
Dean could feel the desperation growing inside him. He had to get Sam calmed down. He was going to make himself sick. Words weren’t working, Sam was too far gone for that. Dean knew what worked when Sam was little, when he would wake up terrified, but unable to tell Dean what he was so afraid of. Dean gripped him tight and then he began to run his fingers though Sam’s hair. He began to take calm breaths. After a few minutes Sam’s breathing began to match his. Dean kept doing it for a little while longer, making sure that it had really stuck. He thought that Sam had fallen back to sleep, when his younger brother spoke,  
“They were right there. At the foot of the bed. Jess was crying and Mom was so mad. Jess kept saying how could you do this to me? And Mom,”  
Dean closed his eyes and kept stroking Sammy’s hair.  
“She told Dad, she told him to kill me. Dad fired the gun, but it wasn’t bullets, it was flame and everything turned to ash.”  
“You’ve had this dream before?”  
“This one or Jess is on the ceiling.”  
No wonder the kid couldn’t sleep, Dean thought. He wanted to tell Sam that dreams couldn’t hurt him, but they both knew that wasn’t true. They didn’t have the comfort of the lies that regular people told themselves.  
“I won’t ever let anybody hurt you Sammy. I don’t care who it is.”  
Dean could feel Sam starting to tense up again.  
“Hey, don’t undo all my good work.” He tightened his grip on Sam. “Don’t think about anything, just go back to sleep.”  
“I can’t.”  
Dean sighed, because he knew the kid was telling the truth. He’d never been able to shut off his brain. It caused most of Sam’s problems and caused Dean major ass pain. He leaned across Sam and picked up the Sleep Balm off the small table next to the bed.  
“Dean what?”  
“Trust me Sammy.”  
Dean didn’t know what the instructions were, but he figured it must work something like Vicks so he smeared some on his fingers before rubbing some in the hollow of Sam’s throat. Then his fingers moved around Sam’s collarbone.  
“You remember the sunflower field?”  
“Kansas.”  
“Yeah, you were like four and we ran around for hours. Then Dad said we had to go and you started crying.”  
“You filled up the backseat with sunflowers.”  
“You stopped crying. So think about that field, nothing bad could follow you there.”  
“When did you turn into such a girl?”  
“Shut up, Samantha.”  
“Thanks Dean.”  
“Go to sleep.”

Dean had fallen asleep and when he woke it was because he was hot. Somehow he and Sam had ended up spooning. The kid always ran hot, but Dean’s shirt was soaked through.  
“Jesus Sammy.”  
Dean sat up and pulled his shirt off. The sheet underneath Sammy was soaked through as well. Dean rolled off the bed. Sammy’s hand grabbed at the sheet as if he was searching for Dean. Dean turned back and reached down, brushing Sammy’s wet bangs from his forehead. “It’s ok Sammy, I’ll be right back.”  
He went through the duffles again and pulled out the Tylenol 3. He picked up the glass on the end table. The water was warm. He took it with him to the kitchen. He turned on the tap and twisted the knob as cold as it would go. He found a plastic bowl and filled it and the glass with ice. He had filled the glass and had just begun to fill the bowl when he saw Sam out of the corner of his eye.  
Sam was propped up against the doorframe of the bedroom. He was rubbing his left eye and his hair was sticking up in all directions. For a moment his brother was five years old again.  
“Go back to bed Sammy.”  
“It’s all wet.”  
Dean rolled his eyes and shut off the water. Sam sat down in the bedroom doorway and put his head on his knees. Dean opened several closets before finding the sheets. Stepping over his brother he stripped the bed and put the clean sheets on. He tossed the wet sheets in the corner and went back to haul his brother to his feet. Dean steered Sam towards the freshly made bed.  
“Can I have a popscicle?”  
“We don’t have any Sammy, but if you sit right here and don’t move, I’ll bring you back a special drink.”  
“Ok”  
Dean left Sam sitting on the edge of the bed and went back to the kitchen. He got the glass of water, the bowl and went back and put them on the end table. Then he went back and got two more glasses with ice. When he came back Sammy was still sitting where he had left him, slightly swaying.  
“How we doin’ Sammy?”  
“I stayed.”  
Dean pulled out the bottle of Jack Daniels from his duffle and poured them both a drink. Dean took a couple of swallows before he handed his brother his drink.  
Sam took a long drink. “That’s good.”  
“Drink it all up Sammy.”  
Sam took another sip and then looked at his brother. “Is this Dad’s?”  
“No Sammy.”  
“We’re not sposed to drink Dad’s drink. You’re going to get in trouble Dean.”  
“Don’t worry about it Sammy.”  
Dean took the glass from Sam and placed it on the end table. He got a couple of the Tylenol 3’s and got the glass of water.  
“Ok Sam, time to take some pills.”  
“I feel better.”  
“Ok, but you need to take these anyway.”  
Sam schruned his face up.  
“Sam, I got you a special drink, now take the pills for me.”  
Sam made a face, but he took the pills.  
“Now go to sleep.”  
“Tell me a story Dean or the monsters might come.”  
Dean never could refuse Sam when he was sick and if this is what it took for the two of them to get some sleep he’d do it. Except he hadn’t told Sam a story in ten, maybe twelve years and he couldn’t remember any.  
“I don’t have a book Sam and I can’t remember one,” Dean said as he dipped part of the towel he had used earlier into the bowl of cold water. He started wiping Sam down.  
“So make one up.”  
“You are always such a pain in the ass when you’re sick Sammy, you know that.”  
“I’ll help. Tell me about when we went to the Grand Canyon.”  
“Sam, we’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, Dad said he’d take us but,”  
“That’s why it’s a story Dean, you make stuff up.”  
“So make something up you know so much.”  
“You rode a farty donkey,” Sam said before starting to laugh.  
“I did not.”  
“You did.”  
“Time to go to sleep, Sammy.”  
Dean climbed into bed and Sam snuggled into Dean’s shoulder. Dean pulled the covers up over them both.  
“Dean?”  
“Right here Sammy.”  
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell Dad that I spilled his drink.”  
Dean smiled into Sam’s hair. “Thanks Sammy.”

When Dean woke up, he was alone. God, that kid was a pain in his ass. He was going to tie Sammy’s ankle to the bedpost. He got up, hoping that Sam was at least still in the house. He found his little brother eating a bowl of cereal in front of the TV. He was watching some damn disgusting nature show.  
“Hey.”  
“Hey,” Sam said, giving Dean a look. “You look like crap.”  
“Right back at you.”  
“You should take it easy.”  
“It would help if you slept through the night.”  
“Have some breakfast and then we’ll take a nap.”  
“Ok Sammy.”

An hour later, they were back in bed. They were snuggled together.  
“Dean?”  
“Go to sleep Sam.”  
“If I take a nap,” Sam said, tracing Dean’s possession tattoo with his finger, “can we-“  
“You sleep for six hours in a row and we’ll talk about it.”  
Sam smiled as Dean kissed him on the forehead and they both closed their eyes.


End file.
